Flemish

A FEW YEARS ago, during a visit to De Proef Brouwerij outside of Ghent, Belgium, a group of American beer enthusiasts - a couple of importers, a bar owner and one or two others - sat around a table with famed brewing engineer Dirk Naudts to conduct one of the odder tasting sessions I've encountered. The goal was to design a new brand for the U.S. market, and various ingredients were displayed for sampling. There were hops and some grains, naturally, but what caught everyone's attention was the dish of grayish-white powder passed furtively from one to the next.

In a delightfully amusing Oct. 17 story, Steve Twomey reported how a silly language squabble in a tiny hamlet incredibly has caused the ruling Belgian national coalition government to submit its resignation. Having lived and worked for RCA in nearby Liege (Liuk to those who speak Flemish) for a year, I can understand the emotions involved. But the story provides a timely lesson for Americans, too. Belgium is a small gem, sparkling with culture, art and history. Of both Celtic and Teutonic origins, the people are friendly, generous and industrious.

Then again, it's LES FOURONS, Belgium, too. It depends. Those who speak Dutch in this pastoral town of 4,200 along Europe's linguistic border - Germanic tongues to the north, Latin to the south - say that Voeren is correct. Those who speak French opt for number two. Now Jose Happart, he likes version two. He was raised as a French-speaker. Give him Les Fourons any day. In fact, give him French any day. He hates to go Dutch. Which would have been no problem - and no story - if Jose Happart hadn't become the mayor here and if he hadn't refused to speak Dutch to his Dutch- speaking constituents.

Barbara E. Sweeny, 86, for years the curator of the John C. Johnson Collection at the Philadelphia Museum of Art and a longtime Wynnewood resident, died Wednesday at Lankenau Hospital. A member of the Class of 1926 at Wellesley College, where she majored in the history of art, Miss Sweeny was associated with the Johnson collection from 1931. When she retired in 1973, she was its curator. "She was a singularly unsentimental kind of person," said Joseph Rishel, the current curator of the collection and of European painting at the museum.

Countries often borrow themes for their stamps as a way to generate revenue from collectors abroad. Though the stamps have little intrinsic worth, they are desirable among collectors who collect by theme or topic. Such countries overcome the scarcity of home-grown subjects for postal honors by citing achievements of others elsewhere. Several countries have issued stamps honoring American baseball stars, movie celebrities and Mickey Mouse and his cartoon-character companions.

For more than 100 years, Flemish men in flat wool caps have flocked to this city's famed Grand Place on Sunday mornings to nurse hot chocolate, resume old arguments, and occasionally sell a bird or two. Soon it will be a memory. City officials have decided to close the market, contending that the quaint stalls are unsanitary and provide cover for the illegal sale of birds protected by local and international law. The bird vendors have hired a lawyer. But the city expects the squawks to cease within a month.

Mercury was crumbling, a factory was abandoned and a restaurant needed work. All three got the attention they deserved and at its fifth annual awards ceremony Jan. 21, the Burlington City Historic Commission honored the projects, completed in the city in 1987. The City of Burlington Common Council and the Save Mercury Committee received an award for their restoration of the statue of Mercury that stands in front of the post office on High Street. Erected in 1881 by James A. Birch, a wealthy resident of Burlington City, the cast-iron figure is a replica of a 16th-century work by Flemish artist Jean Boulogne.

A transformation has occurred at Chatham Court Apartments, a 1920s complex that has come to life again after years of abandonment and decay. "I call it 'the schoolhouse in the middle of the hood,' because it's a nice place . . . a really good living environment," Kami Turner, 20, said. "This place definitely upgrades the community. " A security guard, Turner moved to Chatham Court with her young son shortly after it opened a little more than a year ago. "I wanted to get out on my own . . . build up some credit . . . and I'm hoping to own my own home someday," she said.

You'd have to be a madman to open another Belgian pub in a city already swimming in chalices of Chimay and La Chouffe. But then, if you know how to say "madman" in Flemish slang - that's "Zot" by the way - I suppose there might be something new you can show us about the subtleties of Belgian cookery, like a creamy waterzooi stew or mustardy beef carbonnade, or a few dozen more tricks to play with mussels. After a couple of enjoyable meals at Zot (just suck in your cheeks and say "zult")

John Heinz began life as the sole heir of his great-grandfather's ketchup and pickle fortune. But he wanted his own career. And when he died yesterday in a plane crash over Lower Merion, he had built a political fortune as the state's most popular public official. He won his last election in 1988 by a million votes - the largest victory margin in state history. He was worth more than $500 million, and he looked it. He had an elegant wife whom he met on a tennis court in Geneva, three sons and a luxurious, five-story Georgetown mansion that had once been the Imperial Russian embassy.

A FEW YEARS ago, during a visit to De Proef Brouwerij outside of Ghent, Belgium, a group of American beer enthusiasts - a couple of importers, a bar owner and one or two others - sat around a table with famed brewing engineer Dirk Naudts to conduct one of the odder tasting sessions I've encountered. The goal was to design a new brand for the U.S. market, and various ingredients were displayed for sampling. There were hops and some grains, naturally, but what caught everyone's attention was the dish of grayish-white powder passed furtively from one to the next.

New Hope and Bucks County painters predominate in the 35-artist exhibit "Now & Then" at Gratz Gallery in Doylestown. This side-by-side presentation features early-20th-century Pennsylvania impressionist paintings alongside recent figure and landscape paintings. Each artist is represented by one or several works. While Gratz Gallery typically has focused on early Pennsylvania artists, its wide outreach to present-day talent is new and promising. And no artist concerned either with figure or landscape subjects can fail to be influenced by attitudes of his own time toward them.

  If Philly Beer Week proves anything, it's that artisan brews can now be found virtually everywhere. Here, though, is a list of some of my favorite area destinations to hoist a pint or goblet: Belgian pubs Monk's Cafe , 246 S. 16th St., 215-545-7005. The Belgian bistro that tapped the Flemish frenzy with an encyclopedic Belgo-beer list, mussel pots, and great burgers. Siblings Grace (in G-Ho) and Belgian Cafe (in Fairmount) are also great places to ale down. Great beer bars with broad lists The Grey Lodge Pub , 6235 Frankford Ave., 215-825-5357.

You'd have to be a madman to open another Belgian pub in a city already swimming in chalices of Chimay and La Chouffe. But then, if you know how to say "madman" in Flemish slang - that's "Zot" by the way - I suppose there might be something new you can show us about the subtleties of Belgian cookery, like a creamy waterzooi stew or mustardy beef carbonnade, or a few dozen more tricks to play with mussels. After a couple of enjoyable meals at Zot (just suck in your cheeks and say "zult")

A transformation has occurred at Chatham Court Apartments, a 1920s complex that has come to life again after years of abandonment and decay. "I call it 'the schoolhouse in the middle of the hood,' because it's a nice place . . . a really good living environment," Kami Turner, 20, said. "This place definitely upgrades the community. " A security guard, Turner moved to Chatham Court with her young son shortly after it opened a little more than a year ago. "I wanted to get out on my own . . . build up some credit . . . and I'm hoping to own my own home someday," she said.

For more than 100 years, Flemish men in flat wool caps have flocked to this city's famed Grand Place on Sunday mornings to nurse hot chocolate, resume old arguments, and occasionally sell a bird or two. Soon it will be a memory. City officials have decided to close the market, contending that the quaint stalls are unsanitary and provide cover for the illegal sale of birds protected by local and international law. The bird vendors have hired a lawyer. But the city expects the squawks to cease within a month.

The Annenberg Center at the University of Pennsylvania, normally the preserve of adult concerns, is filling up with hundreds of playgoers - and maybe a few future playwrights - who look suspiciously like kids this week. Yes, it is that time. The annual Philadelphia International Theater Festival for Children began Wednesday and will run through Sunday at the center. "It's going great," Brian Joyce, director of the children's project, said earlier this week. "We took the festival on a big adventure this year.

"This is how Belgian food is," said Michel Notredame, the jolly, bearded, chain-smoking owner of Cuvee Notredame at 17th and Green streets in Spring Garden. "We make it as good or better than French food and in portions big enough to satisfy the Germans. " Notredame is one of a small cadre of Belgians and Belgo-philes who are influencing the eating and drinking habits of Philadelphians these days. He came to Philadelphia 15 years ago after meeting a local woman while on vacation in the West African nation of Senegal.

Painting is an obstinate endeavor for Charles Stegeman. If he had another means of getting oil paint onto canvas rather than in the meticulous, labor-intensive way he uses, he confides, he wouldn't hesitate to use it. So it's fair to say this artist is attracted to making images, not to painting as an activity for its own sake. And as a result, his paintings are more intense and moving. As images, some of the oil paintings in Stegeman's current Haverford College show, most notably his likeness of an old woman, Strega, have a striking, jump-off-the-wall immediacy, pinning the viewer down with their declarative character.

John Heinz began life as the sole heir of his great-grandfather's ketchup and pickle fortune. But he wanted his own career. And when he died yesterday in a plane crash over Lower Merion, he had built a political fortune as the state's most popular public official. He won his last election in 1988 by a million votes - the largest victory margin in state history. He was worth more than $500 million, and he looked it. He had an elegant wife whom he met on a tennis court in Geneva, three sons and a luxurious, five-story Georgetown mansion that had once been the Imperial Russian embassy.